


Love you in the dark

by Perzikje



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Dubious Consent, Innocent Harry, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perzikje/pseuds/Perzikje
Summary: The story of a historical wedding night: in which Louis is quite unaware as to just how clueless his brand new husband is about sex. They try their best to figure it out together.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 50
Kudos: 316





	Love you in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Serious dub-con as Harry is the biggest virgin that ever virgined as a product of being woefully uneducated and naïve about sex, therefore not fully understanding the things that are happening for most part of this story. Louis is a virgin as well, but he knows what he's getting into.

The woodwork was exquisite, round shapes carved in an intricate pattern all around the four posts, coming together in the ceiling post where two doves were formed, cut out in the dark oak. It was sublime. Harry had his eyes trained on the dove looking down at him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his bedpartner turn his head towards him. He ignored it for now. 

They’d been left on their own some while ago, the priest having blessed their bed before silently retreating, followed by the few members of both their families who had helped put the newlyweds to bed. Ever since they’d been lying there in silence, Harry steadfastly looking anywhere but at the other occupant of the bed, choosing to admire the truly rather splendid woodwork while a set of piercing blue eyes bore holes in him.

While the bed was large they were lying close to one another, only a few palm breadths between their shoulders. Harry held himself as still as he could, only allowing the movement of his eyes roaming about and looking at everything except the man lying next to him. His husband. 

It wasn’t that he was hard to look at, not at all. Indeed, Harry thought his husband was quite fetching. Kind too, even if they had only met just over a month ago and they were still getting to know one another. Both his looks and his personality weren’t the problem. No, Harry was scared of what was to come, nerves swarming around in his belly. But he was nothing if not brave, and so with determination he finally turned his head towards his husband. A genuine smile met his eyes and he returned it easily. Yes, his husband was very handsome. Harry’s eyes trailed over his features, the high cheekbones, the clear blue eyes, the slight stubble on his cheeks. His neck was elegant and long, pale skin going all the way down into the dent between his collar bones that were on full display as his husband’s nightdress had a wide neck and he hadn’t bothered tying it. Without meaning to Harry felt his gaze drawn to the delicate bone structure and to the upper part of his husband’s chest, were he could see a sparse collection of soft looking hair. Warmth settled into Harry’s cheeks at the sight of all this on display. 

Harry’s own shift was more modest with its high collar trimmed with lace and the way it reached all the way down to his feet. Both sleeves were adorned with ruffles ending in flourishing cuffs, again made of lace, which Harry thought were very pretty but did chafe a bit around his wrists where the fabric was tight. His mother had helped him to put it on at the bedding ceremony. “Just follow his lead,” she’d said quietly, only for him to hear as she had placed a kiss on both his cheeks, sensing his anxiety. She’d clutched his head between her hands and looked at him with a mother’s love, “Let it happen. You will be alright.” 

That was all fine and well, but nothing _was_ happening. Harry only had basic knowledge about the marriage bed and what was supposed to take place in it, and because of this he had to wait for his husband to make an attempt at something. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying that Harry did not know what to do. No, he had tried to educate himself on the topic but the few people he had dared to ask over the years had all been of no help. Most refused to answer, saying that he shouldn’t worry himself with such things and that he would understand when the time was right. The other type of answer he had gotten had all been a variation of following his husband’s lead and making sure he pleased him. He found it utterly frustrating: how was he supposed to please his husband if he didn’t know what to do? It seemed only logical to prepare as best as he could as it was apparently so important to please, but when he’d suggested practising for his wedding night his etiquette teacher had walked straight out without a word, coming back some time later with Harry’s uncle in tow who had severely told him off. Harry hadn’t understood why. He was always told to practise on things he should improve on, his posture being one, so why was it such a bad thing to practise for his wedding night? If he was supposed to please his husband but didn’t know how? No one explained anything to him and he hadn’t dared to ask in fear of being told off again. Curiously, from that day on he had been appointed a guard to watch over him at all times, even during the night when he slept. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it had something to do with his request, but he still didn’t _understand_.

The only knowledge he did possess had come from Robin, his mother’s friend that spend most nights with her, having Harry wonder if he stood guard for her just like Harry had his own guard. Robin was kind, having always been generous to both Harry and his sister. It had been a few days before they were to set out to South Yorkshire where he would meet and marry his intended. Harry had been agitated for days, hardly being able to sleep and eat for he was so caught up in anticipation, scared to disappoint his husband to be upon meeting him, scared not knowing how to act, and yes, also scared his husband would be displeased that he had not managed to practise even once for their wedding night even though he knew he couldn’t be blamed for it. He had tried, after all. His mother had noticed his agitation and Harry hadn’t needed much prompting to convey all his worries to her, upon which she’d send Robin to talk to him. They had a good talk about all that was to be expected upon arriving in the County of Yorkshire and meeting his intended and his new family, putting Harry’s mind mostly at ease. Just when he thought the conversation had been over Robin had procured a book, opened on a marked page.

“As for your wedding night, maybe this will help you understand.” 

Harry had curiously studied the page Robin pointed out. It was a drawing that depicted two men on a bed, both wearing a nightshift, one man on top of the other. The man on the bottom had his legs raised, bended at the knees with his naked legs on display, and both his arms were wrapped around the other man. 

“Are they wrestling?” Harry hoped not. He didn’t much like the sport, having tried it a few years back but finding it too rough for his tastes. He really hoped his husband to be wouldn’t want to wrestle with him.

“No. They are…” Robin seemed to be at a loss, taking a few seconds before he went on, “They are unifying their sacred bond.”

This struck a familiar cord. Gemma and him had been taught about this by Father John in one of their many, many lessons about religion and the holy union between to people. “Is it the same as consummation of a marriage?”

Robin was visibly relieved, giving a smile. “Yes, it is exactly that.”

Well, that was alright then. Father John had said consummation was important, lest not the marriage to be declared void. Harry found he was relieved now, too. There was just one more thing…

“Will my husband be resentful that I have no experience?” It was his worst fear, having thought about it for years ever since he was denied practise. But maybe, if it was only supposed to happen after marriage like he knew was the case with consummation, it would be alright?

Robin smiled kindly. “No Harry. In fact, I think it will please him greatly.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, son.”

It seemed unlikely, but Robin was a very wise man and Harry had not found him to ever lie to him before, so he tried to accept it and not worry anymore. 

Harry was worrying now though, lying next to his husband, both immobile, glancing at each other before looking away, unsure. He was waiting for his husband to do something. In the weeks leading up to this day they had built up a good rapport between them, never running out of things to talk about, but it seemed like they had hit their limit. Harry couldn’t help but fidget, picking at the skin next to his fingernails. The loud silence only made him more nervous and made him feel like he was already doing something wrong. 

Harry startled when his husband cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. Then, he got up from the bed without a word. Dread immediately filled Harry’s chest. Had he managed to already displease him? He followed his retreating back as he got further and further away from where Harry was still lying underneath the crisp sheet. Was he leaving? Harry didn’t think he could stand the humiliation of being abandoned on his wedding night. If word got out it would reflect badly on his family and the marriage could be annulled. He wrecked his brain for what to do, but he came up empty. He couldn’t very well shout out to his husband and beg him to stay, could he? That would be highly improper. But maybe it was preferable above his marriage not even making it through the first night when he didn’t even understand what he was doing wrong? Harry was so deep into his thoughts that the sound of his husband’s voice surprised him.

“Would you like some wine?”

The question, though a perfectly polite one, was the first thing said between them since they’d been left on their own and had Harry reeling, heart beating out of his chest.

“My lord?”

“Some wine, perhaps?” his husband repeated himself, holding up a crystal glass inquisitively. 

Harry remembered how to breathe. His husband had not gone yet. His mother’s words resounded in his brain, _follow his lead_. “Yes, thank you.”

With small hesitation he got out from between the sheets and joined his husband. The floor was cold beneath his bare feet as he walked over. It must be the reason why he was shivering so. He accepted the filled glass, fingers barely brushing his husbands as he took it. Even this small contact made a thrill run through him and he couldn’t quite stop the intake of breath.

“Please, call me Louis when we are alone.” 

“Yes, my Lor… _Louis_.”

Their eyes met and Louis smiled at him, his eyes kind. 

“Drink, drink,” he gestured, and so Harry did. The wine was sweet, a pleasant taste, more to his liking than the drink at the feast had been. He took another sip, trying to loosen up his tensed shoulders. 

Louis looked at him, noticing how uneasy Harry was. 

“I would like for you to be comfortable.”

“Yes,” Harry answered automatically. He would very much like to be comfortable too, but that didn’t seem to be an option as of yet. He hadn’t expected it to, this was a new situation for him after all and he still was unsure of how to act, what to do, how to best please his new husband.

Louis smiled like he knew Harry’s thoughts. 

“Will you dance with me?”

“But there is no music.” 

“I can provide.” Louis held his hand out for Harry to take in a gesture similar to this afternoon, when they’d shared their first dance at their wedding reception. Harry smiled and accepted. 

“Just so,” Louis said before started to hum a tune that Harry quickly recognised as the melody they had first danced to. Louis pulled him close, holding Harry’s right hand in his left while his other was on Harry’s back just under his shoulder blades. He began to lead Harry across the room, their span of movement much larger than it had been earlier in the day. Whenever they approached an obstacle Louis would twirl them around it, Harry laughing in delight every time. 

The light fabric of his shift swished around his ankles as they moved, cool air getting underneath, but Harry wasn’t cold at all anymore. Eventually Louis led their little turn-about back to the side table, where he offered Harry his now almost empty glass of wine. Harry regretted the loss of his hands on him. 

“That was nice,” he admitted softly, eyes trained on the ground, not sure if he was speaking out of turn. 

“It was. You’re a good dancer.” 

Harry gave a shy smile. “Thank you. My sister is the better dancer, though.” 

It was true. Ever since he’d turned ten years old he’d been allowed to attend dance practise with his sister. He had loved every minute of it, experiencing true freedom whenever he swayed around the room, but more often than not he’d been scolded for moving too frivolous and out of turn. Gemma had been perfect, always keeping in line, praised by their tutor while Harry had to reign his enthusiasm in at every practise. His dancing was much more subdued these days, earning the approval of their tutor, but he still enjoyed it immensely. 

“Shall we go back to bed?” Louis asked after both had finished their drink. 

Harry gulped. “Alright.” 

He was so warm from the wine and the dancing that the thought of getting back under the sheets wasn’t pleasant. Deciding to be bold he lay down on top of them, hoping Louis would not mind. He remembered the drawing Robin had showed him and how the man below had been positioned to allow for the other man to lie between his legs. Mimicking this pose as best as he could he was glad his shift was so voluminous at the bottom, allowing for his knees to part without showing too much of his legs. He didn’t want to be indecent, after all. 

When he looked up Louis was still standing at the foot of the bed, looking at Harry in awe with big eyes, a flush high on his cheeks. Harry’s stomach clenched in anticipation, quickly turning into confusion when Louis didn’t get on top of him like he expected, but rather lay down next to him. 

“Shouldn’t you lie on top of me?’’ Harry asked without thinking, immediately regretting it. He wasn’t supposed to talk like this to his husband but he never could resist correcting someone when he knew he was right. His sister had always called him a wiseacre. It was one of his least redeeming qualities, he knew. He directed his gaze away from Louis, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be. 

“Do you… _want_ me to be on top?” Louis looked at him inquisitively. 

Harry didn’t understand. It wasn’t a question of what he wanted, it was how things should be. Did his husband not know that? It occurred to him that maybe he was as much in the dark about this as Harry himself was. 

“Yes,” he therefore answered, trying to be helpful, “I do believe that is the proper way.” 

Louis nodded but didn’t make a move like Harry expected him to do. Nerves were eating at him. He just wanted to get started so this anticipation could be over and done with. “Well?” he enquired. 

“A bit eager, aren’t we?” Louis chuckled. Was he making fun of him? Harry wrinkled his forehead in confusion, starting to protest, but Louis was quicker, 

“It’s alright,” his blue eyes twinkled up at him, “Trust me, I quite understand,” he smiled like they were sharing some kind of inside joke. Harry didn’t get it. 

“But if you agree,” Louis went on, “I would like for us to take our time.” His eyes roamed over Harry’s face, searching. For what, Harry did not know. An answer was in order though and he gave his by nodding his head. 

This made Louis relax next to him. He smiled at Harry before lifting a hand to stroke the dark locks of hair that were fanned out over the pillow, moving their heads closer together. His eyes were full of emotion. Harry could only stare, unable to utter a sound. This feeling in his gut was extraordinary, like something was trying to take flight inside of him. It held a promise of something more. 

“You are so very beautiful, my husband.” 

The whispered words made him flush, not knowing if it was because Louis called him beautiful or because he had addressed him as his husband. He decided he quite liked the sound of both. 

Slowly, Louis hand untangled from his hair and came up to the side of his face, tracing a path from below his ear to his jawline before he touched two fingers to Harry’s lips, the touch feathery soft. The fluttering inside of his stomach grew more intense. He heard Louis swallow hard. 

“May I kiss you?” Louis eyes were half lidded where they were staring at Harry’s mouth. 

“Yes,” he managed to say, voice small. Slowly, Louis lifted himself so his face was hovering over Harry’s, fingers moving so his thumb was now at the corner of Harry’s mouth, just like it had been for their first kiss to seal their exchanged vows. That kiss had been short and sweet and Harry had liked it, never having been kissed on the lips before. Louis did it again now, leaning down and softly placing his mouth on Harry’s. It only lasted a second before Louis pulled back but it was enough for Harry’s cheeks to heat up again. The look Louis gave him could only be described as complete adoration. With intent he repeated his movements, kissing Harry sweetly before retreating again. He repeated this a few times before Harry couldn’t take it anymore, stomach swirling pleasantly with every touch of Louis’ lips and just wanting more. This time when Louis pulled back Harry followed, lifting his head from the pillow, unwilling to be separated but having to give in when he couldn’t lift any higher. Louis gaped at him, his pupils dilated. Harry put a hand on the back of his head and tentatively pulled him down. 

“Please.” He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, he just knew he wanted more of this addicting feeling. Whatever the case this seemed to be what Louis had been waiting for, quickly surrendering to Harry’s plea as he leaned down and took his lips again and opening his mouth a bit to take Harry’s bottom lip in between his own to suckle on it. Harry gasped and pulled him in tighter. The action was repeated with quite the same result. When Harry felt Louis’ tongue on his lips he didn’t hesitate to open his own mouth. The first tentative touch of their tongues had Harry’s stomach do somersaults, only getting more intense when he heard Louis groan into his mouth. Seemingly startled himself, Louis pulled back and lay back down, looking at Harry with red high on his cheekbones. 

The air between them was filled with suspension. Both seemed to be at a loss as how to proceed. Inwardly, Harry again cursed his inexperience, feeling so useless right now, unable to help. But wait. Robin had said… 

“I have no previous experience in this matter,” he spoke smartly, hoping Robin hadn’t been lying and it would indeed bring Louis joy. This seemed to be the case as Louis smiled warmly. 

“I am much the same. Bit awkward, isn’t it?” he laughed. Harry joined in for yes, it was awkward. 

“Shall I just… start… then?” 

Nodding in reply, Harry again opened his legs so Louis could fit in between. He did not expect the hand on his lower leg at the hem of his shift, nor for it to slip beneath and slowly slide its way up, tracing the inner part of his leg, going past his knee. A startled gasp left his lungs. 

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” Louis told him, the expression on his face serious. 

Soon, he felt Louis’ hand on his bum, a soft touch at first that quickly turned into something with more intent as he pushed harder and his fingers slid in between Harry’s cheeks to search out his most private part. 

“Oh!” 

Harry gasped at the unexpected sensation. What was Louis doing? 

“Should it be like this?” he dared to ask, scrunching up his nose. 

Louis looked at him with unfocused eyes. It took him a second to answer. “Ah, you’re right. Uhmm… I think… There should be some- ” 

He removed his hand from between Harry’s legs and moved to the bedside table. Harry’s mind was still too preoccupied with the strange touch and how it had felt to look at what he was doing. Soon, Louis was back and finally, finally, settled between Harry’s legs. This was it. Now they were going to do it. Whatever it was. To his great surprise he soon felt Louis’ fingers in between his cheeks once more, prodding at him and slicking him up with whatever was now on his fingers. 

“Better now?” 

Without waiting for an answer he started to push, prodding at him before he eventually slipped a finger inside. Harry keened, making Louis look at him with worry. 

“Is this alright?” 

Harry took a deep breath. “Yes.” 

The intrusion was a bit uncomfortable but he was more confused about it than anything else. Before long Louis added another finger, the stretch of it almost too much before Harry adjusted. This was all so strange. Never in a million times Harry would’ve thought that this was what would happen in the marriage bed and quite frankly, he didn’t see the point of it. But he kept his thoughts to himself, thinking about pleasing Louis and hoping that he was doing that. He seemed to be doing alright though, for Louis glanced at his face every few seconds, looking at Harry in awe. His breaths came in heavy for which Harry couldn’t find reason, it wasn’t like he was exerting himself and he knew Louis was in excellent physical shape, demonstrated time and again when he would chase his younger siblings around the large grounds when they played. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Louis, “One more, I think?” 

“Yes,” he replied, only wanting to please. When Louis pulled out to slick up his fingers some more Harry realised that he had unknowingly hitched his legs up higher. Immediately embarrassed at exposing himself in such a way even without being aware of it he tried to put his legs back down, but before he could Louis put a hand on his knee, skin on skin as Harry’s shift had rucked up, and carefully pushed his knees further up, looking at Harry to see if he would protest. Harry didn’t, but he did grab his shift to bunch up the fabric in his lap, not wanting to be salacious and expose his nether parts to Louis, even if he did just have his fingers in another indecent place. 

Then Louis was back to the task, quickly putting one then two fingers back in him and going for a third within just a few seconds, moving his fingers in and out while opening them. It was…strange. There was no other word for it. It did not feel bad, but Harry still didn’t grasp what the meaning of all of this was. Suddenly Louis brushed past something inside him that felt different and he couldn’t help the loud intake of breath. Louis looked at him before repeating the same movement with quite the same result, Harry’s toes curling this time. He felt a tingling shoot up his spine and his heart rate picked up as Louis kept stroking over that mysterious place. Harry was quickly overwhelmed with the heady feeling. His skin started to heat up, sweat gathering on his brow, making him antsy. Just as heat started to fill his belly Louis stilled his fingers inside him. 

“Do you think you’re ready?” he asked, still out of breath but sounding hopeful. 

“I…” Ready for what? “I think so,” he said, trying to follow. 

With a nod Louis pulled his fingers out, leaving Harry bewildered. A few seconds later Harry was even more confused as Louis lifted his shift, exposing his privates before he unceremoniously slathered the oily substance on himself with a trembling hand. He was erect, that much was clear to Harry who quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks burning fiercely. Soon Louis got on top of him, all the way in between his legs just as Harry’s picture had shown, before he bluntly pressed inside, not stopping until his hips were flush with Harry. 

Harry had expected this course of action when he’d seen Louis slick himself up but it still shocked him to his core. The sensation wasn’t anything like how Louis’ fingers had felt. It was like there wasn’t enough room for Louis to fit, but yet he had managed to do so. Without pause Louis began to undulate his hips, pushing and pulling, dragging along Harry’s inner walls. The foreign feeling was indescribable. If anything, it felt like he needed to use the privy but he knew he didn’t. It was uncomfortable. 

Though Harry couldn’t understand why Louis would want to put himself in him like that, it was apparent that Louis was enjoying it, evidenced by the moans he tried to hold back but failed to do so completely. Harry decided he could be obedient and take it if it meant his husband was pleased. Determined, he tried to settle in, shifting his hips to find a more comfortable position. 

The change made Louis graze that same spot in him from before. It was unexpected. At first Harry welcomed it, the sensation making it so the uncomfortable feeling of Louis’ thickness inside him vanished to the background. But then the tingling in his spine took up again, now accompanied by sparks of heat that curled in his gut. When Harry realised that the feeling was quickly turning into an unknown pleasure he was immediately alarmed, unsure of what was going on. The dark, heady sensations settled deep in his stomach and he could feel his body reacting, hear his blood starting to rush in his ears. To his absolute horror he realised he was beginning to harden. This could not be happening. Shame washed over him. _Not now, why now, stop it, stop it!_ Panic was welling up inside him and his throat closed up, making him release an involuntary whimper. 

Harry was completely mortified as Louis’ eyes flew to his face at the sound.

“Like so?” Louis asked, voice deep and out of breath but clearly pleased at something. 

Harry closed his eyes, not understanding the question and not knowing what an appropriate answer would be. He clamped his legs more tight around him in reflex as if this would make the sensations stop. Louis reacted by rolling his hips almost desperately, working himself deeper into Harry and moaning out loud before he got himself in check again, going back to his previous short and not quite as deep movements. 

“I… Sorry,” he breathed harshly, “You are just so… _Ohh_ … very lovely.”

Harry didn’t react. He needed all his energy to push down the overwhelming sensations that were starting in his belly and had begun to radiate out to other places. It seemed that Louis’ movements were only aggravating the feeling. He didn’t know what to do. Meanwhile Louis was stifling deep groans. 

“Harry, I…” he bit back on another groan, “So sorry. But I am going to-”

Harry wanted to pay attention but he really could not, his entire focus being on where Louis was lodged inside of him, burning him from the inside and fuelling to the already blazing fire in his gut. What was this trickery? He simultaneously wanted to scream his protest and beg for more, ask Louis to please stop while also wanting it to go on forever. His skin was itching and he felt like pulling on his hair, but he kept both his hands clenched tight in the sheet beneath him. 

Louis rolled his hips more urgently into Harry, now openly groaning, grazing that point in him on every other thrust. Harry’s only defence was to squeeze his thighs harder around Louis. 

Louis’ hips snapped against him hard before he let out a mighty rumbling groan, resting his forehead on Harry’s chest as he worked himself in and out of him a few more times. The sight and sound of him coming undone made Harry ache badly, leaving him conflicted. At first he was relieved it was over, but that relief quickly turned into disappointment when Louis got off him to lie back on the bed, his warmth and touch suddenly gone. Harry quickly pulled his shift back down over his legs and planted his feet on the bed with his bended knees together, tenting the fabric in a decorum of modesty, but really trying to hide his physical state. But Louis wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were unfocused, staring blindly at the canopy, his chest rising and falling fast, seemingly unbothered that his shift was high up his stomach and exposed him. Harry stared at where he was softening against his thigh, his length glistening wet and red at the tip. The sight only added to the desire that was curling deep in his belly and Harry had to look away. He couldn’t keep still, desperately wanted to put a hand on himself, but knew he couldn’t. Instead he folded his legs up to his chest, shuddering at the almost-but-not-quite friction it gave him. 

Louis looked at him with a lazy smile. “Sorry darling, I always get a bit lethargic, after.” 

Harry hardly understood but his toes curled at being called _darling_. It also made his gut swirl but he tried to ignore that part. 

“Do you… want me to help you out?” 

Harry frowned. Help him, to do what? He shook his head. 

“Oh.” Louis’ face fell. “Are you not, you know?” he vaguely gestured towards Harry’s loins, obscured by his folded up knees. 

Oh God, he didn’t _know_ , did he? He couldn’t! Blind panic ran through him and he vehemently shook his head again, eyes wide open in distress. 

Louis’ face fell even more. “Right. I suppose I was a bit… that I wasn’t… Well.” He coughed awkwardly. “I will do better, next time.” 

Harry had no brain space left to figure out what this ‘next time’ that Louis was alluding to was, for he used all his wits to keep from touching himself where he ached, shoulders tensed and hands fisted at his hips. He was aware of Louis’ worried gaze on him but he couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“I… Harry. I didn’t mean to… hmm. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No.” 

There was a relieved sigh. A few seconds later Louis asked, “Are you quite alright? It’s just… you seem tense.” 

Harry kept staring at the canopy. “I am fine. It was a long day.” 

“I suppose, yes. I just… It feels like you’re… Are you _sure_ you are alright?” 

Harry nodded but couldn’t find it in himself to look at Louis. It was silent for a while before Louis asked if he could bring Harry some more wine, but Harry simply shook his head. 

Still Louis studied him, trying to figure out what was ailing him. Harry knew his unnatural position with his knees up high wasn’t helping to convince him he was fine, but it was the only way he could keep his hands from wandering to where they weren’t supposed to go. It was a difficult thing though, he literally ached with the pure need coursing through him. If only he could put a hand on himself, not even do anything with it, to alleviate his discomfort. He knew it was impossible but he almost trembled with the need. In order to distract himself he brought his arms up to go around his legs and dug his nails hard into his knees. It did not help. He didn’t understand why he was so keyed up right now. It certainly wasn’t the first time he got so worked up he couldn’t ignore it, but he could always feel it coming on for days: a sort of unrest in him that would only worsen before it demanded a physical outlet. There had been no build up this time. But he knew he couldn’t ignore it, not if he wanted to get any sleep. 

He contemplated using the chamber pot. Back home, when he would be unable to sleep due to the build-up pressure in his loins that wouldn’t stop no matter how much he willed it to and made his skin crawl hot, he would go to bed at night like normal and pretend to drift off and wait until the guard in the corner of his room had fallen asleep, for he always did (and Harry never reported him for it), before making his way to the porcelain bowl. He would squat over it with his back half turned to the guard so he could have some semblance of privacy but still keep an eye on him, suspicious of being caught. If he deemed himself safe enough he would lift his nightgown slightly just to be able to get a hand under and touch himself, more often than not being desperate by that time after being keyed up for hours. Never having the privacy to really explore himself he always relied on the same action, finding a pinching movement with his thumb and forefinger just below the sensitive head of his appendage to be quite pleasurable and efficient. Usually he would be quick about it, heat and tension rising in his belly fast as he bit down on his other hand to keep quiet while he hunched over to aim down into the bowl in time for his release. It was always a messy affair. After, he would drink two large glasses of watered down wine so he would have to relieve himself at least twice during the night, making it so that the product of his shameful act would be thus diluted that none would be the wiser come morning. 

It wasn’t ideal, but he could think of no other thing to do now and was already going stir crazy, not able to think clear. It hadn’t even been a quarter of an hour he was in this state and yet he had never felt it quite this strongly before. It would not wait. Harry begrudgingly accepted that it would be the only solution to his problem. Now he just had to set everything in motion. He already knew that they had wine, he could only hope that Louis wouldn’t check to see how much of it had been consumed come morning. Now he had to locate the chamber pot. A sigh of relief was released from his lips as he easily spotted it to the right, just by the privacy screen in the corner. The sight of the gleaming white porcelain made him twitch at the prospect of having relief soon and an involuntary groan left his throat, Harry not being quick enough to stifle it completely. 

It made Louis look at him curiously before following his line of sight. Harry quickly directed his eyes back to the bedpost and ignored Louis’ eyes burning holes in his skull again, hoping he wouldn’t speak. No such luck. 

“If you wish to relieve yourself please do. I will look away.” 

Harry was already shaking his head. 

“You can go behind the screen, I don’t mind.” 

He stayed silent. Louis put his hand on his face, thumb smoothing over a cheekbone. “Harry.” 

Knowing it was rude to ignore his husband when being addressed this directly Harry turned his head but was still hardly able to meet his eyes. Louis just looked worried. “Harry,” he started again now he had his attention, “it’s okay. It’s a normal bodily function. No need to be shy.” 

The words made Harry quickly turn his head, again looking up at the canopy above. 

“No,” he said, “I don’t have to.” It wasn’t exactly true, his bladder was half full at least, but that wasn’t a problem right now. In fact it was a source of comfort, making him feel easier about being able to get rid of the inevitable evidence of what he was planning to do later on. 

“I only am tired. I wish to go to sleep,” he told Louis, deciding that he couldn’t wait a second longer now that he had accepted his plea. The sooner Louis would sleep, the sooner Harry would be able to alleviate his discomfort. 

To emphasize his words he turned over onto his side, back turned to Louis, grabbing the sheets and pulling them over them both. “Goodnight.” He screwed his eyes shut, bidding Louis to settle down and fall asleep soon. 

“I…” Louis started, confused, but went quiet again. Harry pretended he was already slipping into dreamland. A minute later he felt the mattress shift, indicating Louis was finally settling down. “Goodnight Harry,” his voice quietly sounded, much closer than Harry had been anticipating, but Harry stayed perfectly still, taking slow and deep breaths that would hopefully convince Louis of his sleeping act. What he hadn’t anticipated was the way Louis plastered himself to him, his chest to Harry’s back, following the curve of his body. Harry’s heartbeat picked up dangerously fast and he pushed out a breath. Realising his mistake immediately, he directed his breathing back to the slow steady timbre from before. _I am asleep_ , he thought, _please, let him believe it_. He felt Louis shuffle behind him and unexpectedly, he felt soft breath on his face. It was a small miracle that Louis didn’t seem to hear how Harry’s heart was trying to beat out of his chest. A soft, sweet kiss was pressed below his ear before Louis settled down again, his body loose. Harry could have given a great sigh in relief. Now he just had to wait for Louis to fall asleep. 

Only a few seconds later the unthinkable happened. Louis carefully put his arm around Harry, hand landing close to his stomach, his lower arm brushing against his stiffness. Harry froze. Oh no. Panic took hold of him again and he couldn’t move or speak. His insides turned cold. With gentle hands Louis pulled him over onto his back. Knowing he couldn’t pretend to be asleep anymore Harry opened his eyes, scared what he would find. But Louis didn’t look cross with him, just very confused. 

“…Is this what’s got you so distressed?” Louis asked, his voice sincere. He didn’t sound disgusted. Not yet. 

“I apologize!” Harry threw both arms over his face, unable to stand Louis’ gaze on him. 

“I didn’t mean to,” he pleaded, voice now barely above a whisper as he was so ashamed at being caught out, “I swear I didn’t. Please, don’t be angry, I didn’t mean to, I promise.” 

“Harry…” 

But Harry didn’t want to hear whatever Louis was about to say. He needed him to understand, to believe that it’d been an accident and that Harry wasn’t wicked. For he wasn’t. He _wasn’t!_

Louis took a hold of his arm and pulled it away from his face. Tears began prickling at Harry’s eyes. “I don’t know why it happened. It wouldn’t go away but it will, soon, I promise.” Now he was just plain lying as he knew it wouldn’t, not on its own. He couldn’t believe how hard he still was even after all this humiliation flooding his senses. He managed not to cry, but it was a close thing. 

“Do you want it to go away, then?” 

Harry nodded. Of course he did, wasn’t that obvious? 

“Wouldn’t you rather…well. You know…” Louis made a hand gesture, “take care of it?” 

A gasp left Harry’s mouth. He couldn’t be suggesting what it looked like he was suggesting. Harry knew what his uncle would have to say about this. “That is inappropriate.” But his voice wasn’t at all sure. 

“Harry, I am your husband. I assure you that it is not inappropriate at all. But. You don’t have to do anything. We don’t have to do anything, not if you don’t want to.” 

Harry tried to be brave, if not for himself then for Louis who was trying, but just didn’t seem to understand how shameful this all was. 

“What, exactly, would we be doing?” His voice came out all squeaky. He was so anxious his arms where literally trembling where they were clasped tight around his knees, hugging them to his chest. 

Louis was more confident. “I could touch you, see what feels best for you, help you.” When Harry did not respond, he asked, “Would you like me to?” 

Harry whimpered. It was all very confusing and he was still. So. Hard. He was getting desperate with it. He tried to think but his mind was stuck. 

“Harry, would you like me to? It’s alright to say no.”

“I don’t know,” he managed to get out, frustrated that he couldn’t navigate this situation. He was just so confused. His mind was saying one thing, screaming to abort lest his husband will find him repulsive, but his body was saying something completely different. Harry didn’t know if he could trust it. He’d always been better at listening to his heart than his mind, a trait that he’d inherited from his mother, who had told him to hone it and use it when he could. And he wanted to. He just didn’t know if he should. 

“Maybe, we could- ” Louis started, but Harry was too overwhelmed. 

“I don’t know!” He pulled his knees up higher so he could bury his flaming face in them. How could his face still be so hot when all his blood seemed to be throbbing south? He became aware of the dull ache in his bottom where he could feel Louis’ essence slowly dripping out, the sensation making him writhe into the sheets, in turn making his stiffness drag over the taut muscles of his stomach where it left a wet trail. He wanted to sob in frustration. It was all so unbearably embarrassing. And this on the first night with his husband. His _husband_. What would he think of Harry now? 

Louis was still lying so close to him, only a hairs width between them. Harry didn’t know if that made his situation better or worse. At least he wasn’t leaving. Yet. 

“Do you ever touch yourself?” 

The audacious question shocked him and he violently shook his head in denial. Too fast to be any sort of believable. Again, he pressed his face into his folded up legs, his humiliation utterly complete. He could just burst into flames right here and now. 

“I do,” Louis casually admitted. 

Harry’s head shot up, looking at him incredulously, because, what? “Truly,” Louis continued while looking into his eyes, “I do it most nights.” Harry could only stare at him. “It feels good, does it not? And I always sleep better, after.” 

Harry couldn’t relate. His sleep would often be fitful after, subconsciously worried about getting caught and someone telling his uncle about what he’d done, while also having to get up at least twice to void his bladder. Still, it was much preferable to trying to sleep while his body was on edge and couldn’t come down no matter what he tried. 

“Is it allowed?” the question was out before he could stop himself, voice so small he wasn’t sure Louis had heard him at all. 

“I mean, it’s something one does in private so I don’t really talk about it, but. Yes, it’s allowed.” Louis saw the frown form on Harry’s forehead, “Aren’t you?” 

He couldn’t answer. He thought back to all those years ago, the early days of when his limbs grew too fast for him to catch up and hair first started sprouting in new places, when his uncle had caught him in the act while bathing in the big lake, Harry only having just started to explore his growing body and all it was capable of. His uncle had been furious and had scolded him badly for over an hour. Harry still felt intense shame whenever the memory came up. He had been just a boy then, but learned his lesson when, for the entirety of two weeks, he had to take on extra chores on top of his own and Gemma’s as well, with his uncle reminding him every day how vile he had been. Exhausted and humiliated, he cried himself to sleep every night. He hadn’t dared to tell anyone the reason he was being punished, not even his mother, not after his uncle convinced him that she would find him wicked and not love him anymore. The worst part was that even after all that, he didn’t understand _why_ it was wrong. It had felt like something so natural, a way to understand his body’s needs and bring him pleasure. Still, ever since he’d been caught he had tried to not do it again, sure his uncle would take one look at him and just _know_. It wasn’t easy but he mostly managed, only giving in about once every month and a half when he got so keyed up, skin burning hot and itching with pent up desire, that he could not concentrate on his lessons and tasks during the day and not get to sleep at night. He justified his actions to himself by thinking it was surely better to be a good and well behaved student trying to repent for his occasional sin than a lacklustre one that was in a foul mood, for he couldn’t concentrate on his academic work or anything else when his body craved release. 

Harry’s silence didn’t deter Louis, who went on with the questions. “Did someone tell you what to expect when we would be alone together tonight?” 

“Yes,” Harry quickly said. “But I…” He realised Louis deserved a true answer for he had been nothing but honest with Harry so far. “Not all of it,” he admitted. 

“What were you told?” 

Still unable to sort his thoughts Harry just blurted the truth about the picture in the book and how he was to follow Louis’ lead and please him. 

“Oh Harry, I’m sorry,” Louis told him when he was finished, his face solemn. 

“Why? I did please you, didn’t I?” It was unbearable to think that after all this, it would turn out he hadn’t even managed to do his duty properly. 

“Darling, yes. Of course you did.” Something eased inside of Harry. “I just wish… If I’d known…” Louis shook his head, unable to finish, his face upset. 

“It’s alright.” 

“No it’s not. But I can’t help it now, I suppose.” 

Loosening one arm from around his legs he took hold of Louis’ hand. Some of his urgency had gone with their talk though he was still achingly hard on his stomach, but comforting Louis seemed more important right now. 

Louis’ mouth curved up as he lifted their hands to place a delicate kiss on Harry’s knuckles, reminiscent of when he’d done it in a stolen moment almost a fortnight ago when they’d managed to get away from their ever present chaperones for just a few short minutes. Harry had been elated then at the delicate brush of Louis’ lips on his skin, and his reaction was the same now. But he was also unsure and still undecided on what to do about his predicament. 

“If you’d want me to, I would still like to please you, too,” Louis said, firmly holding on to his hand. 

Harry was still unsure. No one had ever told him he could be pleased as well, of have pleasure. But, with the experience of what they’d just done, he wondered if it would be alright for him to also take his pleasure, as Louis had clearly done the same, though not in a way that Harry would have ever expected.

He decided honesty was probably the best course. “Is it truly alright for me to…? It’s just, I was never told that it would be acceptable. And. It’s, uhh, a bit scary? For me? See, I was never supposed to,” he gestured with his hands, “to myself. So I tried not to.” He took a deep breath, looking up at the bedpost again. This was difficult to talk about and he had never shared his experience with anyone before. “My uncle caught me once. He… well, he wasn’t kind about it. He told me I wasn’t allowed such pleasure, under no circumstance. So I.” Another deep breath. “So I don’t know if you mean it or not. I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

He tentatively glanced at Louis to gauge his reaction at his confession.

“No offence, but your uncle sounds like a right prick.”

Shocked as he was at the profanity, Harry laughed despite himself. “None taken, I actually agree.” It was bad to speak ill of any member of his family, but It was how he felt.

“He’s wrong, too. Your body is your own, you are allowed to make yourself feel good if you want. Also, we’re married. It is very acceptable for married couples to share bodily pleasures, but you absolutely don’t have to do that if it’s not what you want. But, looking at you, I get the feeling you might want to. Is it… ” Louis swallowed, looking insecure for the first time this night. “Do you? Want to?”

Harry’s cheeks flamed up again at the mere thought of Louis touching him. Nerves were clawing at him again. _Be brave_. “I think I might. Just, I truly, honestly, do not want to displease you. Are you truly sure it would be alright? I mean, you have already taken your pleasure.”

“You could never displease me, Harry. Truly. In fact, the thing that would please me most right now, is pleasing you.”

A thrill ran through him at those words. He studied Louis to see if he could find a clue that he wasn’t telling the truth, but there was none. He squeezed Louis’ hand, nodding when the other man looked at him. “I want to.”

Louis smiled brilliantly. “Alright. But you have to promise me to tell me if you don’t like it, or want to stop.” Harry nodded. He could do that. Now that he had finally made up his mind to let Louis touch him, he couldn’t wait, lustful urgency reclaiming him yet again. It made his blood run hot just having Louis’ eyes on him. Squirming into the mattress again, he released Louis’ hand and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. His anxiety returned in full fashion, heartbeat rising dangerously, and he was quickly working himself into a frenzy over it. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” he asked. 

“Take a breath, it’s alright. We’ll take it slow.”

“Should I get on top of you?” Harry felt queasy at the thought. “I don’t think I want to do that,” he confessed.

Louis took hold of his face with both hands, waiting until Harry’s frantic eyes settled on his. “Darling. It’s alright. I’m just going to use my hands, yes? You can stay like this.” Harry nodded, still high strung, at which Louis leaned in for a kiss. He spent some time on kissing Harry thoroughly, nothing too heavy, trying to calm him. It worked. When Louis pulled back Harry had considerably cooled off, still anxious to get to the next part, but not going crazy with anticipation anymore.

Louis made his way down Harry’s body, urging him to let his legs down with the gentle pressure of his hands, settling in between them when Harry complied. He looked up at Harry. “Can I see you?”

Harry nodded, feeling nervous but determined. Slowly, oh so slowly, Louis put a hand under his shift, on his leg just like before, running up towards his knee, but this time, he took the fabric that was covering Harry with him. Inch by inch he was uncovered by delicate hands, making Harry shiver though he wasn’t cold. When Louis reached mid-thigh Harry couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing his shift and pulling it up to his stomach in a swift move. Louis gaped at him for a good few seconds. Tentatively, he reached his hand out, touching Harry’s inner thigh, moving higher to brush against him where he burned. Harry took a loud breath.

“Beautiful,” Louis commented, gaze transfixed on his sensitive parts. Warmth flooded Harry’s senses again. He was almost bursting out of his skin in anticipation of what Louis would do with his hand that was still hovering just above him, the heat of his skin palpable but just out of his reach.

“Still alright?” __

“Yes.”

With that, Louis put his hand fully on him, feeling him out with gentle care. Harry’s breath stuttered and he let out an embarrassing squeak. _Holy mother of_ … Someone was touching him. _Louis_ was touching him. Louis was _touching_ him. His mind couldn’t comprehend it. But his body instinctively knew what to do, his hips starting to roll up for more, _more_.

Heated, forbidden pleasure was once again running through him. No, not forbidden. He was allowed. It was his body and he was allowed to feel this pleasure. He was. It was alright, they could do this together. It wasn’t forbidden. Then, Louis squeezed around his tip on the upstroke, catching the strip of skin just under the flushed head. Harry arched his back straight off the bed. _Oh my._ That was so much different than when he did it himself. His mind went foggy again as he tried to settle back down on the mattress. But Louis had found his weakness and went on to exploit it shamelessly. He twisted his hand so his thumb was right on that small piece of skin before he repeated his actions, squeezing on the tip and running his thumb along the ridge. Then, he did it again. And again. A greedy pleasure took hold of him, making him move his hips up to chase the friction he craved. Sweat broke out all over his skin. 

“That’s it, huh?” 

Harry moaned embarrassingly loud in reply, quickly biting into the palm of his hand to keep quiet. 

“Don’t,” Louis said, “Let me hear you darling, you sound beautiful.” He pried Harry’s hand away from his mouth and redoubled the efforts of his other hand, thumb now almost continuously rubbing on that delicious spot. Harry was _shaking_. His body didn’t know which way to go, arching up into Louis’ hand before backing off and repeating, trying to get a grip on the onslaught of darkheadydelirousaddicting - _yes right there, yes yes _\- pleasure. He kicked a leg out, rubbed it along Louis’ waist, curling his toes into him. It felt like he was burning and drowning at the same time.__

“Louis,” he managed to get out. His husband looked up. “I’m...” Harry almost couldn’t say it. “Soon.” He caught Louis’ eye. How could he look so calm and at ease when Harry was currently shaking apart at the seams? He could feel himself getting harder, muscles tightening, his entire body readying for release. He found himself letting out sounds he had never made before, deep lustful moans filling his ears that he knew came from him but sounded foreign. 

He couldn’t ask. He couldn’t. But he had to. He licked his lips. “Where?” he finally voiced. 

“Hmm? What was that, darling?” 

Harry bucked his hips into Louis’ hand in urgent desperation. _So close_. There was just this one thing holding him back. 

It was difficult to string words together. “I’m… soon. And. _uuhgnn_ … messy. Where…?”

“Just here, like this,” Louis encouraged him. “I’d like to see you do it.” A dark glint appeared in his eye then and his voice dropped, “ _It would please me, Harry_.”

It was too much. Way too much. Harry arched his back one last time, muscles locking, holding his breath as he couldn’t help but finally give in, pleasure exploding in his loins and surging through his body. It seemingly went on for a long time, strings of his essence landing on Louis’ hand and Harry’s shift, soiling the fabric. Louis kept squeezing and rubbing, only letting up when Harry dropped back down on the bed, utterly undone. Aftershocks ran through him and made him tremble. His release had been so intense he was tired with it, not even able to muster up the energy to close his legs or pull his shift down when Louis moved up to lie next to him. 

Louis regarded him with awe. “You are amazing. That was… wow.” 

Harry couldn’t hold back a grin. He was feeling pretty good right now: satisfied, his nerves gone, finally able to unwind. 

“Thank you,” he said when he’d found his voice again, turning his head towards Louis. 

“It was my absolute pleasure, I assure you.” 

“I do believe the pleasure was all mine,” he replied, trying to go for a joke, eyebrows raising as he waited for Louis’ reaction. Louis pulled him in and kissed him. They stayed like that for some time, looking at one another in peaceful silence, exchanging soft kisses.

Eventually Harry’s bladder reminded him of what he had put off before. He cleared his throat. “Now I really do have to-” he nodded towards the corner of their room. Louis smiled in acknowledgement and Harry got up on wobbly legs, taking the porcelain behind the screen. It took him a while to get going, a combination of his earlier release and knowing Louis would be able to hear, but he managed. 

When he returned to their bed Louis was back under the sheets, a thick blanket pulled up. Harry looked down at his soiled shift. He would get the sheets all dirty if he got in like this. Louis seemed to have the same thought: “Just take it off. I’ll do the same.” True to his word he sat up and proceeded to pull his shift over his head, dropping it off the side of the bed before snuggling back down under the sheets. Harry started to undo his cuffs and then the buttons running from the neckline to his chest, but hesitated in pulling the fabric off. Without a word Louis seemed to understand, turning over onto his side so his back was to Harry. Quicky ridding himself of his shift he got in behind Louis, pulling the sheets and blanket up to his shoulders. He placed a bold kiss on the side of Louis’ neck. His husband turned over, facing him once again, his expression full of adoration once more. Again they kissed, taking breaks to simply look at one another like they had all the time in the world. They did, Harry realised with a thrill, Louis was his and he was Louis'. They would never be without one another for as long as they lived. It filled Harry with contentment and hope for the future. They would figure it out together. They would be just fine.

  


x~o~x~o~x~o~x~o~x~o~x~o~x~o~x~o~

  


The next day, when Harry returned to their chambers to change before supper, he found a book with a note attached. _Harry, I hope you will find this as useful as I have_. It was signed, _Your loving husband, Louis_. Curious, Harry picked up the book and flipped through the pages, flushing when he realised exactly what it was about. There were even pictures. Then, he found the same picture that Robin had shown him, but now he saw it was accompanied by a text on the next page that described the actions depicted. Huh. Harry could feel the tips of his ears starting to glow when he read expressions as _erect manhood_ and _flood of bliss_. He quickly closed the book and stuffed it away for another time, feeling too overwhelmed to deal with it now and also not wanting to be late for supper. 

He was already back to reading it the next afternoon, unable to hold back his curiosity, having made up an excuse about being tired so he would be left on his own. Louis was attending to matters of the estate like he did most days. He would likely not be back before supper. Unable to keep his face from burning Harry read through the book, taking in every detail, starting over again when he’d read through it all in utter fascination. Something eased in him as he read and learned, finally understanding. And when, only a few afternoons later, Harry explored his own body without being on guard, he did not feel guilt or shame for the first time in his life. Instead, he experienced a blissful freedom and was finally at ease with himself, ready to start his life together with Louis.


End file.
